


All are Equal in this Game of War

by TwistedFireInMySoul



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Team, OC, OC Team, Possible fluff?, Racism, Sexism, Summer of '64, Teufort, VLT Team, bad language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedFireInMySoul/pseuds/TwistedFireInMySoul
Summary: It's the Summer of 1964, and unease hangs over the two bases in Teufort. A new player seems to be entering the ball ground, and the men have no idea of their abilities, or who they even are. Mystery lurks around every corner, but won't they be surprised when they find out that their new enemies are in fact women?





	1. Chapter 1

      Smart shoes walk down a plain hallway, the only colour apart from white being a dark shade of purple. Every once in a while there is a door displaying a symbol- Medic, Sniper, Spy- and above were neon signs, indicating where important rooms lay. Yet the shoes continue on, as they were not looking for a single person.

 

     Past the room housing important intelligence a sentry beeped, swinging from side-to-side in a robotic manner. It was a Level Three and hadn't been tampered with in any way; who even were there enemies? Nobody, apart from those who had been affected by them in a bad way. Blame whoever gave them that particular contract.

 

     More doors, more symbols pass by- Engineer, Heavy Weapons, Demolitions- and the person was starting to reach their destination. In fact, this person was female, and carried a brown file in her small hands. Dark hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, even though a few strands framed her face, and behind delicate glasses lay dazzling green eyes, like emeralds set into a marble masterpiece.

 

     The final stretch at last, the three final classes indicating private bedsits passing her- Scout, Soldier, Pyrotechnician- and pushing open a pair of double doors the lady was greeted to the sight of nine women scattered around a communal lounge. Everyone was unique in their own way, whether it be the way they dressed, how they talked or what they looked like, which made everything so special about this place.

 

     A heavily-built woman sat opposite a thin, bespectacled female, and the pair were playing chess together. While this was rather quiet in itself, the tranquility was ruined by three others, who were playing some shooting game on the TV. One had long, brown hair pulled into a ponytail, yelling something into a headset that only covered one ear. The second had blonde hair that was coiled tightly into a bun and usually was hidden from sight by a black military helmet. On the end sat a girl in a deep purple flame-retardant suit, goggles and a mouth filter around her neck. Her hair was chopped just under her ears in a pixie-cut.

 

     Sitting next to an empty fireplace were two ladies who were purely communicating with hand gestures; their sign was beautiful to watch, and it was clear in their eyes that they were talking about something that both enjoyed greatly. Another pair of welding goggles hung around the tanned neck of one, a tool belt on her hips. The other female had gorgeous ebony skin and warm caramel eyes, the type which you could melt in.

 

     Finally the last two were entertaining themselves individually. A tall, lanky woman was carving intricate engravings into a hand-made bow, tinted aviators covering her eyes. The last lady was reading, short hair gelled and styled so it wasn't in her way. A black mask covered the top of her face, but it didn't detract from her beauty.

 

     Everyone looked up as the lady in lilac cleared her throat, getting their attention and causing all noise to stop. They all had great respect for this strong woman, the one who had saved every single one of them.  
"Ladies." She started, her mouth curling into a smile. "We have another job."


	2. Chapter 2

     Irritation filled the RED Engineer as he rifled through a drawer, pushing aside many blueprints. On his desk lay a sparking sentry, which uttered sad clanks and groans. On its red crown lay the remains of a sapper, the cause of its early demise. This was the latest casualty in the RED vs BLU war, and while it wouldn’t be the last sentry the Engineer would make, every time a Spy got one of his babies he’d mourn.

 

     However, the Texan had a problem. Normally, his blueprints would be in his workbench, at his disposal for times like these, but now they weren’t. Yes, his dispenser instructions were there, as were his teleporter diagrams, but nothing about his towers. He knew that he hadn’t misplaced them (a perfectionist like him? Please-) so the only logical explanation would be that a BLU had taken it along with their intelligence.  
“Well ain’t that a kick in the teeth…” He mumbled, scratching his head.

 

     This wasn’t the first thing to go missing in the RED base either. Looking back, many things had seemed to be misplaced, ranging from one of the Scout’s bats, to medical documents which thankfully were found again a few hours later. He didn’t know if he was just becoming forgetful, or if the BLU Spy was doing this for a joke, but he sincerely hoped that his work, like the files now locked away in the Medibay, would be found in the next few hours.

 

     A depressing fizz reminded him of his mechanic patient, and turning around he picked up a pair of pliers. He could probably remember most of his blueprints, but it’d be a pain to not have them as a reference. Slowly, he pried the sapper away from the top, and tossing it to the side he began to fix the sentry.

 

     He couldn’t pin-point what set him on edge, but soon the hairs on the back of his neck were standing to attention. Adrenaline started to course through his veins, the surge not unlike the one he got during battle. Finally, he realised with a turn of his stomach that he knew what had caused him panic; he was being watched.

 

     Grabbing his wrench from the side, he proceeded to scramble out of the workshop, wanting to get as much distance between him and the invisible being in his room. He was certain that it was the BLU Spy, and speeding up he knew that he needed the RED Pyro’s help to obliterate this menace. He didn’t want to feel that little slice of agony between his shoulder blades any time soon, not until the next battle.

 

     He thought that it was a miracle that he’d made it to the firebug’s room minus a balisong to the back, and wrenching the door open he let go of formalities for the time being.  
“S-Spah, in mah room!” He gasped, as the masked being raised their head. This was practically what they lived for, spy-checking and watching the different colours each mercenary turned when they were set alight. That and colouring in their children’s books.

 

     Standing, they picked up their flamethrower (it had its own stand, which was scorched quite badly) and trotted out, heading to the Engineer’s invaded sanctuary. They had an uncanny ability to detect a hidden BLU Spy, which was probably one of the reasons why the builder got along so well with them.

 

     When they reached the open door, with no walls being burnt in the process, the Texan thought that the intruder would still be inside. Yet, when the Pyro entered, it was clear by their body language they were confused. They’d been promised a Spy by a friend, but there was nobody cloaked in the corner, or crouching behind a cupboard. There was no Spy, so there was no need for them to be there. With a huff, they headed to the exit.  
“Nw Spwh.”

 

     The terror had left now, but the gap wasn’t left unfilled; the Engineer felt foolish.  
“I’m sorry Py…” He murmured, watching the firebug leave with doubt in his mind. His instincts were usually good, but today it seemed they were wrong. With a sigh, he turned back to his tower.

 

     Beside them lay his sentry blueprints.


	3. Chapter 3

     On the opposite side of the battleground lay an identical base, with a bright blue coating the halls instead of a vibrant red. The corridors were empty, an unnatural hush over the mercenaries residing inside. This was odd, considering the personalities of the men; it was just past five in the evening, and there wasn’t a drunken Demoman singing Scottish songs, or a Scout bouncing a baseball against the floor, or even a Soldier beating up a poor punch bag in the training room. No, they were all too busy enthralled in one thing.

 

     All were standing around a large monitor, watching grainy footage which was repeating itself. The actual video was only a minute long, yet so much information came out of it. Their security cameras had picked it up, and it was only when the Spy had been going through the regular check-ups did he see this anomaly.

 

     In the frame was a door, as the camera that had filmed this was outside, but everything was dark because dusk had started to settle. Everything appeared to be alright for a few seconds, until the picture began to blur and distort. Static covered the screen, but not before a figure could be seen entering the base. Then, after thirty seconds of white noise, it disappeared completely. The only thing different about the scene was that the door was slightly ajar.

 

     No one spoke as the Spy clicked pause right before the snow danced across the monitor. The figure, thanks to the awkward lighting, was mainly in the shadows from the waist down, but it was clear that they were wearing a mask, mimicking the markings of a raccoon. It was as if they were making fun of the Frenchman, as they wore a suit in the shade of purple. It was the way that the jacket was cut that gave away an obvious answer though.  
“That’s a WOMAN!” The Soldier boomed, hitting the desk with his fist.  
“I ain’t ever seen a chick round here before.” The Scout chimed in, leaning forward. “She with you, Spook? Seems like your type, all mysterious like.”  
“I ‘ave never zeen zhis woman before in my life…” The masked man retorted, snorting as if the Boston boy had made a funny joke.

 

     The men all seemed at a loss of what to do next. None ever had to deal with intruders like this before, mainly because the war was so hush-hush they didn’t get any… ‘Visitors’.

 

“Kamerads, I zhink it’d be best if ve tell zhe Administrator, ja?” The Medic said in a matter-of-fact way, resolving the problem with a simple solution. This made the most sense after all, especially if that female Spy wasn’t anything to do with Mann Co.

 

     It all seemed so simple… Such a shame nothing seemed to want to go to plan.  
“What the hell?!” The Scout exclaimed, pointing to the screen. A rubbish bin had popped up, and a progress bar had started to fill. Someone was deleting their evidence, so somebody on the inside knew!

 

     The Engineer began to tap the buttons on the keyboard frantically, trying to save the video. Nothing was working, and in only a few moments it was completely gone.  
“… Dang nabbit.” He growled; he hated being defeated.

“It zeems, gentlemen, zhat we ‘ave a Zpy in our midst.” None of them appreciated that irony.


	4. Chapter 4

 

     The sky was a light blue, the odd fluffy cloud drifting lazily across the open stretch. It seemed to be a perfect day, and because of the dazzling sun many couples had taken advantage of this. One of these particular partnerships consisted of a tall man wearing a suit, clean-shaven and by his words, incredibly arrogant. On his right arm was a beautiful blonde, her hair curly and resting on her shoulders.

 

     On a rooftop nearby sat the lanky woman from before, a mic by her mouth as she hummed lowly. She was looking down the barrel of a sniper rifle, the cross-hairs of the scope locked onto the businessman’s head.

"Lead him to an alley honey. Keep the shot clean." She spoke softly, watching her teammate’s subtle movements. Down below was in reality the Spy, wearing make-up and a realistic wig. She spoke in a husky manner, not like her usual honeyed accent, but it was all a part of her cover. It had only taken her a few days to charm their target; she had a way with men that was fascinating to watch.

 

“Can we go somewhere private?” She whispered in the man’s ear, speaking in a low Polish tone. It seemed that men like him loved ditzy blondes who didn’t know much English.

 

     A grin went across his face, and he started to tug her towards the nearest alley. Everything was planned, so it was no accident when her bangle broke and fell off her wrist.

“Oh, look!” She gasped, bending down to pick it up off the cobbled floor. The brute slapped her ass, but that’d be the last thing he’d do. A muffled band rang out, followed by a thud as his suddenly lifeless body fell to the floor. Straightening up, the dumb look that had been on her face had shifted to disgust.

 

“What does he look like Spook?” The Canadian asked in her ear, getting a noise of revulsion as a result.

“You blew zhe top ‘alf of ‘is ‘ead off.” She moved closer to the corpse, her heels clicking against the ground. Blood oozed from out of his cracked skull, and her mind jumped to the nursery rhyme of Humpty Dumpty.

“Zhe damn bastard ztill ‘as a zmirk on ‘is ztupid zmug face.”

 

     Out of the shadows came another woman, wearing a purple blouse and a smart black skirt. Forever the professional, she didn’t say anything about the dead man, but it was clear that she enjoyed seeing his demise.

“Well done girls. I’ll deal with him from now on… Head straight back to the base.” Her words were quiet, and near the end clipped and harsh. “I have some important news, which will… I need to talk to everyone. Get back as soon as possible.”

“Oui, madame.”

“At once.” The Canadian agreed; all of the women, when on a contract or fighting, were linked to one another via ear pieces and microphones. She heard everything, and she was worried. Not much got past her, and she knew that whatever the news was, it wouldn’t be good.

 

     Packing up her weapon slowly, she only took a brief moment to enjoy the heat washing over her before she left the rooftop.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lonewolf41m for pointing out that I'd accidentally posted Chapter 4 twice! As a token of my gratitude, here's the REAL Chapter 5, an entire 6 days earlier than originally planned. Enjoy :)

    Smoke curled up into the air, stroking at nothing with grey fingers before being caught up and blown away by the wind.  There was a bite to that breeze, and the RED Spy wished that he had brought his overcoat with him. No matter. He’d learn from his mistake for next time.

 

    Across from him was his BLU counterpart, who didn’t seem to be fazed by this weather. However, he did keep his hands in his pockets, which was probably a wise move. He’d been summoned by his enemy to chat, something that they did regularly. Both needed time away from their own teams, so who better to talk to than a man who spoke the same language? It was a no brainer.

 

    This time though, it started differently.

“RED,” The first began, slipping into their mother tongue.  _ “I believe we have a problem that may be affecting you too. Has anything gone… Missing recently?” _

_ “Depends what you mean by ‘missing’, and by ‘recently’.”  _ He replied, tapping some ash onto the floor. He knew exactly what he meant, but enjoyed getting the other to explain. It gave him a sense of power over his duplicate.

_ “Recently as in the past few months. Missing… Important files. Medical records, instructions from the Engineer, even weapons.” _

 

    The RED Spy blinked at the sudden onslaught of information, before regaining his composure. Now, he was beginning to piece together what had happened over the past few weeks, and it was starting to dawn on him how worried his BLU enemy seemed to be.

_ “They have been going missing… We thought it was you.” _

_ “So did we, until we caught footage of another Spy entering our base.”  _ At that, he flicked his cigarette to the ground, grinding it under his shoe.  _ “It was a woman in purple.” _

 

    Shock and disbelief hung in the air as thick as the smoke around their heads.

_ “You don’t mean…” _

_ “Not only has a bitch out-smarted us, but we have a traitor in our midst.” _

_ “I believe that a certain Miss Pauling may know this lady.”  _ Both disliked that thought, mainly because it was possible that there was an entire team made up of these militant minxes.

_ “We need to tell the others.” _

_ “You’re right. If I can convince mine about a ceasefire, and you do the same, then perhaps we can eradicate this vermin before it becomes a real threat.”  _ The pair shared a smirk, almost like it was an inside joke.

 

_ “It’d be nice not having to fight a real challenge.” _ The BLU said on aside note, readjusting his tie with a practised motion.

_ “I agree. They must be insane, thinking that they could try and play pretend and get away with it.”  _ He snorted, before adding,  _ “I’m surprised nobody has caught them in the act until now.” _

_ “It explains why blueprints went missing.”  _ The second man shrugged. Now his brain began to tick, and like clockwork, he pulled out his cigarette case, put another smoke in his mouth and lit it. It was a miracle that both men could still run around and weren’t hacking up their lungs. Thank Respawn for that.

 

_ “We best part ways, and talk to our teams.” _ The RED looked to his watch, noting how long they’d been talking.  _ “If all goes to plan, I shall send you a message and we will meet again.” _

_ “Au Revoir mon ami.” _

_ “And you.”  _ With that, both parted ways, eager to escape the bitter cold that was creeping into their bodies.


	6. Chapter 6

    When the Spy and the Sniper had both returned home, the rest of the VLT seemed quieter than usual. While they’d been away the Engineer had tried to recreate the intricate Respawn system again, only to fail. All had lost count of the attempts the Redneck had done, but none ever lost hope. After all, they’d all survived without it so far.

 

    As the pair entered the communal lounge, they were greeted by the Pyro. Her brown eyes were bright, even though they housed many unspeakable horrors.

“You’re back! How did it go?” She asked, rocking back on her heels. The Spy smiled slightly; she had a soft spot for the excitable firebug.

“All taken care of, and it was rather easy. ‘E was zuch a pig, zhat it was a wonder zhat ‘e ‘adn’t been killed earlier.”

“He had men to protect him Spook.” The other woman retorted, pushing her aviators up her nose. “I had to take them all out before dealing with him.”

“Ahh, zhey don’t count. Zhey were only in it for zhe money!” Pulling something shiny from her pocket, she held it out to the Pyro. It was the bangle from before, diamonds winking up at them all. She’d been bought it by their hit, but it was only a trinket to show how wealthy he was. It meant nothing to her, yet her teammate was like a magpie and collected items like this.

 

    Speaking of, her eyes widened as a small gasp escaped her.

“It’s beautiful! Thank you Spy!” Taking the bracelet, she embraced the lady tightly, before running off to place it with her other glittery things. It was a bad habit, but at least it was better than setting anything on fire.

 

    Most of the team were trickling in now, congratulating them and asking if Miss Pauling had said anything. All had been told to meet in the lounge, but nobody knew anything apart from that it was urgent.

“She mentioned somethin’ about the Teufort war.” The Engineer mentioned, pulling her helmet off her head. Her hair was the colour of corn, and was kept out of her face by two neat plaits.

"Did Spy not take diagrams back to RED base?" The Medic asked; her English was not as good compared to the others. It was hard for a woman in Russia to learn another language, and she only learnt her medical knowledge because her father was a doctor, and Miss Pauling managed to get her a job as a nurse for a few years.

 

    The Heavy leaned forward, shaking her head. It was easy to see her muscles slide under her tanned skin, her hands calloused from when she lived and worked in the outback.

“Nah, I saw her leave before she even went with the Sniper. It can’t be that.”

“Maybe something bad has happened.” An Irish voice spoke out, meaning that the Demolady had been listening. She, thanks to problems in the past, had trouble with her ears. She was practically deaf, but not quite. She preferred communicating with others using sign, but could hear or lip-read at a pinch. “I’ve never seen her this… Paranoid.”

 

    At that moment, the doors swung open, revealing the lady in lilac herself. She looked tired, her hair falling out of its bun in places. Somehow though, when she smiled it all went away.

“Girls.” She started, walking forward and slumping in an available armchair. “Girls… I have some bad news.”

 

    Everyone went silent, only the sound of material moving or furniture creaking ruining the silence.

“What’s up..?” The Scout asked, her eyes wide.

“We’ve been caught. Spy, the BLU team caught you on camera; the jammer didn’t work.” She held her hand up before anybody could interrupt. “I deleted it, but now… I’ve only heard rumours.”

“Yah can’t go back now!” The Engineer frowned at the idea. “It’s suicide!”

“I need to, to learn more information. We’d be stranded otherwise.” She gently tapped the builder’s leg in a reassuring manner, before adding, “I’ll be staying here for the night though… Just in case.”

“You can stay with me!” The Pyro exclaimed, sitting up. “It’d be a sleepover!”

“That sounds perfect.” She smiled; if only the world could be as sweet as the firebug. “Lead the way.”


	7. Chapter 7

     A frosty silence choked the air in a large, grey building, uniform and straight. Unlike the others that looked similar, this had no colour at all; it was a neutral area, where RED and BLU didn’t fight… Well, at least the mercenaries didn’t quarrel here.

 

“That’s impossible!” A man screeched, feebly banging his fist on the table. He wore a red bowler hat and a matching suit, but it hung off him like the rags on a scarecrow. In fact, his own skin looked like it belonged to a bigger man, as his age was showing through how many wrinkles he had.

“I can’t work with someone like him!” The other elderly figure cried, the exact same as the man opposite him, except he was wearing blue. The two were Blutarch and Redmond Mann, siblings by blood and the reason why the Gravel war had even started in the first place.

 

   Sitting in between them was a lady with hair that was starting to go grey, a stylish cigarette holder in the crook of her fingers. She appeared to be bored of the argument the two gentlemen were having, but as there were more pressing matters to attend to, she interrupted them.

 

“We have a problem, and do not deny that it doesn’t concern you. As the Administrator over both of your teams, I believe that you should take this threat seriously and put your… Feud on standby for the moment.” Her tone was nasally, and it was easy to tell that she was a chain-smoker.

 

   Under her right hand lay nine brown files, all with different symbols on them. Slowly, she drummed her nails on them in a rhythmic fashion.

“In these documents lie all of the information we have so far collected on this unknown team. They refer to themselves as the VLT, which is an acronym for ‘Versatile Lilac Tech’.” She said this name with distain, as if it were tainting her tongue. “They aren’t playing around.”

 

     Pushing the pile across the table so her bosses could reach them, she continued her monologue.

"These women are dangerous, and are currently ‘assassins-to-hire’." Letting this information sink in, she deliberately flicked the long handle so that ash fell into a small pile on the floor. "If alone, and the women manage to knock out the Respawn systems, your teams will be sitting ducks. Then who will fight for you?"

 

     Leaning back, the tension was so thick it was like treacle; she could probably swim in it, if she so desired.

 

“Are you saying…” Redmond started, glancing up from one of the files he’d been reading. “That we should… Work together?”

“It’s insane!” We can’t, not after everything he’s done to me!” Blutarch exclaimed angrily, shaking his head. “We’ll survive without one another!”

"But when these ladies have finished off your teams, who do you think their next target is going to be?" She quirked an eyebrow, her sharp eyes darting between the pair. As her cigarette reached its last dying breath, she dropped it, and ground it into the floor with the ball of her foot. "After all, to kill the snake you must cut off its head."

 

     Silence again, but it was the uneasy type now. Both were worried, this seed of thought planted into their head and only burying deeper and deeper.

“… Just until the female team has gone.”

“Yes, then back to war.”

 

     With that, the deal was made with a quick and begrudging handshake.


End file.
